


Quiet Moments

by jekyll_inside



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Nightmares, charles the permanent optimist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 02:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1711160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jekyll_inside/pseuds/jekyll_inside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik often has nightmares, and only Charles' company convinces him it's possible to wake up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Moments

Charles woke with a shout, blue eyes snapping wide open and his heart slamming into his ribs. The darkness of his four poster bed didn’t calm him, a harsh white light burning his eyes, someone yelling in his ears, a child crying.

He threw off the covers and practically fell out of bed onto his knees, the floorboards hard through the sweatpants he slept in and the night air cold on his back.

_Calm, Charles. Come on. Calm._

He forced deep breaths into his lungs, hunched and shaking as terror rattled around his mind. Then he was staggering to his feet and heading to the door, unable to break the connection with the nightmare despite his efforts and continuing to be bombarded with pain, fear and rage as he stumbled down the otherwise silent corridor on the east side of the mansion. He knew where he was going, was drawn to the person his sleeping mind had linked with like a magnet, and when he finally reached the right room he nearly fell through the door.

“Erik! Erik wake up!” His voice barely scraped above a harsh whisper, the fear his friend was pouring into him from his dark sleep making Charles' throat tight. When he reached the bed he knelt on the mattress and tightly gripped the older man's scarred shoulders. Erik was tossing and turning violently, chest heaving and skin filmed with a sweat that made his black vest stick to him. The moonlight threw a cutting line of light across his body through the curtains, and he almost looked like he was having a seizure - it took everything Charles had not to dissolve into panic when his friend _wouldn't wake up_.

 _Erik listen to me. It's Charles,_ the professor tried, pressing a few shaking fingers to the German's temple. But he was met with a solid wall of emotion that nearly pulled the telepath into the nightmare, and he jerked his hand away.

"Jesus," he breathed, blinking himself securely back into his own reality and wondering, not for the first time, why Erik's mind was so irresistible to his own.

He gritted his teeth.

_Oh, sod it._

Charles knelt up on the bed, raised an unsteady hand, then brought it down across Erik's face with a  _smack._

Erik didn't wake quietly. In the few seconds between regaining consciousness and working out where the hell he was, he'd yelled a terrifying German curse, hit Charles in the face, grabbed a knife from under his pillow and pinned his victim into the mattress.

"Bloody hell Erik!" Charles' complaint was muffled, and although he considered himself quite strong for his build, his attempt at breaking free from his friend's iron grip was pitiful.

"Charles?" Erik whispered hoarsely, his accent heavy as he shook the nightmare off with the relative ease of a lifetime's practice.

"Have you got a knife in my back?" the younger man demanded, wincing as an ache bloomed across the exposed side of his face.

"What?" Erik looked down at the blade, noticing it for the first time and quickly using his power to hide it under the pillow behind him again. "No, of course not."

"Get off, Erik, please," the professor groaned, feeling thoroughly victimised and already wishing he was back in his own bed. Erik obeyed with quiet haste, double checking that the various weapons he had strategically placed around the room (guns, knives and a rogue pair of nunchucks), were no longer floating above them, ready to attack.

Charles rubbed his face, feeling like Erik's pin had broken his back as he pushed himself up, turned on the mattress and and crossed his legs to face the other man, his odd-socked feet tucked under his knees. He suppressed a sigh, remembering what had brought him here in the first place.

"Are you all right, Erik?"

Erik lifted his head, his gaze having strayed to Charles' chest accidentally. "Yes, I'm fine."

The professor's brow furrowed, and he studied his friend's face with concern in his eyes. The slice of moonlight made the blue seem crystal clear. "That was a terrible dream, Erik," he murmured. "I'm so sorry."

Erik shrugged away the words, his jaw tight as his gaze dropped to Charles' lips. "I'm more sorry that I hit you - you're lip's split."

Charles raised his fingers to his mouth, surprise flickering in his eyes as he saw there was indeed a little blood.

"Oh well," he said brightly, smiling at his friend despite the damage. "I can invent a story to tell the students. Perhaps I single-handedly saved you from an assassin?"

"I practically am an assassin and I pinned you like a mouse."

"Only because I let you," the professor returned teasingly, and the tiny smirk that curved his lip made Erik's throat a little dry. He smiled too, hiding the effect Charles unwittingly had on him.

They eventually quietened, and the smiles fell away. Charles watched his friend's steely eyes cloud over with thoughts, and they were both tired enough not to notice how many minutes of companionable silence drifted by. 

Erik was very beautiful. The telepath decided after a while of studying the other man that that was the only word for him. He found the juxtaposition of power and grace truly fascinating. How could that body, so full of strength and muscle and force, include fingers sensitive enough to feel the tiniest scratches? Eyes that would look so gently as him, and with such vulnerability?

It was like he constantly expected betrayal, Charles thought as those eyes met his. Had learnt to expect it.

"Charles, what's wrong?"

The professor straightened. "Oh, nothing my friend," he assured him quietly, trying to convince him with a brief smile. "Just thinking."

"You were projecting. Why are you so sad all of a sudden?" Erik asked as if he hadn't spoken. The German had tensed minutely, a frown creasing his forehead. Just like that his peace was gone, and his mind was starting to buzz with thoughts the telepath could hear without even trying.

_Something's wrong. Threat? Did I say something?_

"Erik," Charles murmured. "Relax."

"I am relaxed," he replied tensely, a flicker of irritation in his voice - his own comfort was irrelevant. "You're the one that isn't."

"Erik." The professor put a hand on his friend's knee, dipping his head to hold his gaze fully. Erik's train of thought gave a funny kind of stutter the moment he felt Charles' touch, and the professor used the opportunity to slip into the unsettled energy of his mind.

_I promise you I'm fine, my friend._

Erik reacted to his mental presence in a way no one else did, and despite the fact that telepathic exchanges were reasonably common between them now, the effect the link had on the older man never ceased to surprise his friend. The tension drained out of his body like water, his mind cooling and calming, until all that remained were small pirouettes of contented little thoughts.

_That voice. Friend. Blue eyes. Love._

Charles never read too deeply into those, because it was impossible to tell what they were caused by and what they really meant. He had to remind himself of that when he felt his face warm.

 _Do you think I woke anyone else?_ Erik then asked, and it was obvious he'd been practising because the projection was perfectly clear.

 _With the nightmare? No. I was only disturbed because my mind wanders when I sleep._ He didn't mention mention the fact that it only seemed to wander to Erik.

 _Can you not do something about that?_ the other man asked with a small frown, sounding almost annoyed. Charles was taken aback, and he suddenly became very conscious of how his fingers rested on Erik's leg.

 _I... yes of course, I can look into it if it makes you feel uncomfortable. I'm so sorry-_ Charles went to withdraw his hand now that it felt so intrusive, but the next second Erik caught his wrist.

Both men's minds went perfectly quiet for a moment, and they stared at each other, each looking equally startled by the move.

Erik swallowed. "You need contact for the telepathy, right?"

Charles was glad for the blue darkness, because he was blushing again. "Yes, of course," he lied.

The older man nodded once.

Then, after a moment that they were both painfully aware of, Erik released Charles' wrist and Charles tried to be as casual as possible in touching Erik again.

... touching Erik?

 _When I said before about controlling your thoughts when you're asleep it's not because I'm uncomfortable it's because I don't want you to have my nightmares I value you too much for you to see what I've seen,_ his friend suddenly told him in one long rush.

Charles blinked, processing the words as they tripped over themselves.

 _Oh,_ he eventually replied. _Oh, I see._

Then he straightened his back, knowing a better response was needed than that and feeling for some reason like he needed to convey it verbally.

"I appreciate your concern for me, my friend. But I don't want you to hide yourself away for my sake," he said, in what Erik recognised as his teacher voice. "I want to help you in any way that I can, not force you to restrain yourself in order to protect me."

"We're not talking about teenage angst here, Charles," he replied, although the tone was gentle. "Even I get scared by the stuff in my head, and I've lived with it nearly all my life." He would never have admitted that to anyone else, and they both knew it.

"But you have a beautiful mind, Erik!" the professor insisted, his voice soft and earnest. "I see so many wonderful thoughts and feelings there. Good things. There are dark corners, yes, but believe me, after reading strangers' thoughts since I was a boy there are bad things in my head too. I know your mind can be a little fractured and confusing at times, and I know that can be difficult to navigate when you're in the centre of it all, but believe me," he said, bringing his hand up to rest on his friend's shoulder and gazing at him with all the confidence in the world. "We're defined by the good in us, and what we choose to do with it. Not by the darkness."

Erik stared at him, his grey eyes a little confused, a little anxious. "How can you have such faith, Charles? After seeing all the evil in people how can you still believe that?"

The younger man smiled. "Because you give me that faith."

"But why? How?"

"Does there need to be a reason, Erik?" he returned laughingly. "Is it not enough that we are friends, and that I trust you deeply?"

Erik swallowed. Looked at Charles for a long time, in awe of him.

"I trust you as well," he eventually murmured, feeling vulnerable as he admitted the weakness. But it was true. He trusted this man with his life, something he had never done with anyone else before.

Then they smiled at each other, for their thoughts were one in the same.


End file.
